Good Father
by junecat
Summary: "Cigarette burns and broken noses." Trina Echolls is being lied to by her little brother. (Warning for mentions of abuse)
1. Chapter 1

Trina Echolls went to live with her father when she was twenty one. She had lived with him for a few years as a teenager, but had left when Aaron was able to get her lucrative enough roles that she could support herself as soon as she turned eighteen. She had moved out with dreams of the stardom that her father had waved in the faces of normal people for years. And it had lasted for several years, but when she was having trouble finding roles in even daytime murder mysteries, she resigned herself to having to move back home.

It wasn't her father that was the problem, Trina reminded herself as she moved boxes from her expensive apartment to her car. It was the stepmother. Lynn was the epitome of a rich housewife, despite the fact that she had had a pretty successful acting career of her own. She lounged on the couches, sipping whatever alcohol she had gotten her hands on that day, and occasionally (frequently) taking the opportunity to flounce around the house in a bikini.

But she wasn't _that_ bad. Trina knew that moving into her father's mansion of a home was the best decision for her right now. She needed the stability it would give her, and she could deal with Lynn as payment for that.

Aaron greeted Trina enthusiastically as she pulled up to the house. Trina was reminded that this was a good decision. Just seeing her dad there to welcome her gave her a sense of calm that she'd missed while scrambling from audition to audition. "Daddy!" she squealed, hopping out of her car.

He pulled her into an embrace. "It's good to see you, Trin," he said. "We're all thrilled to have you here."

Trina imagined that was true for Aaron, but for Lynn and Logan, it was probably a little bit of a stretch. She hugged him back and said, "I'm thrilled to be here too," anyway.

They got her moved in pretty quickly. She had been used to fitting her life into LA apartments, and thus had less belongings than she ever could have imagined when she was the spoiled teenage daughter of Aaron Echolls.

She followed her father out to the family room, where her younger brother was sitting on the couch with three of his friends. Trina's relationship with Logan had been antagonistic at worst, nonexistent at best. He'd been only ten when she moved out last, but he'd already shown the signs of becoming the epitome of a spoiled movie star's son. She'd barely spoken to him since then, but judging by just his posture and stupid grin as Trina walked into the room, she could already tell that he had continued down that path.

Logan didn't greet her when she walked in, until Aaron put his hand on her back and said, "Logan, say hi to your sister."

He looked up at them, caught in the middle of rolling his eyes. "Hi, Trina. So you've decided to grace our household with your presence once again? And here I thought playing dead hookers was skyrocketing your career."

"Always nice to see you, Logan," Trina responded, forcing a smile that she knew was obviously fake.

Logan's three friends stared at her with differing responses to the tension. She recognized Duncan, who had sometimes been around the house when she came to visit. He had a small smile as he waved to her, obviously very good at ignoring the rage bottled up inside Logan. Then there were two blonde girls. One looked horrified, while the other was actually _smirking_.

Trina huffed. She turned and walked away, with her father stopping to shoot Logan a look before he followed after her.

.~.

Trina learned that Logan had two very distinct personalities. Most of the time, he was cocky and loud and, though Trina hated to admit it, kind of funny. There were several times she had had to turn away to stifle a laugh after a well timed quip by her brother at one of their parents' expense. More often, those jokes were at her expense, and she found herself in a verbal sparring match with him. She hated him, but she also had to admit to herself that he was pretty typical of a fourteen year old boy.

But then there was the personality that showed itself only at home, rarely, and with no warning. He could've been puffing out his chest and taking everyone down with his humor twenty minutes ago, and then he would just become this entirely other person. He would hunch in his shoulders, refuse to make eye contact. He became the least vocal person in the world, stuttering through his sentences while he made excuses to get out of the room.

He was just an overall weird kid, but could she blame him, with a movie star father and an obviously alcoholic mother. She supposed she could be nicer to him, but it was hard when he was such an unapologetic asshole.

.~.

Logan had been spending a lot of time with that blonde girl who had smirked at Trina. _Lilly_. She had brought out a streak in him that had him even more arrogant and defiant than usual.

He spent almost no time at home, opting instead to inhabit the Kane home with that rat pack of friends he kept around. He would arrive home usually only minutes before his curfew, sporting a grin that Trina had a weird urge to smack off his face.

The only times that Logan allowed himself to be forced into interacting with the family was during interviews and press conferences. Trina imagined he was around for this less by free will and more because Aaron demanded they all be there. And Aaron was a hard man to say no to.

One night, Trina was up late watching TV when she heard the door open and close slowly. She looked up to see her brother walking cautiously into the house, holding his shoes and glancing down each hallway he passed. She looked down at her phone. 1:17 AM.

"Tsk, tsk, brother," Trina sang. She paused her show and twisted her entire body to face him.

Logan noticed she was there and froze. After a second passed, he looked away from her to search the room for other signs of life.

"Mom and Dad are asleep," Trina assured him, watching him carefully for his reaction. She wondered how she could use this to her advantage. Most of what he'd gotten into trouble for lately was just general defiance, but breaking curfew had been a pretty big offense when she was a teenager. She could get Logan in some serious trouble for this.

Logan set his shoes down by the couch tentatively. He was beginning to lower himself to sit down on the couch just as their dad entered the room.

Aaron was wearing just lounge pants, rubbing his eyes. His long hair stuck up in a mock lion's mane.

Trina sensed more than saw Logan's entire body freeze. The sound of his breathing halted as his breath caught in the face of being found out.

"Is everything alright?" Aaron asked as he pushed his hair back. His eyes were half open. "I heard the door open."

Trina looked over at her brother, feeling triumphant, as she prepared to rat him out. The look on Logan's face caused her to hesitate. There was that second personality. His eyes were wide, and he was staring at her like she held his entire life in her hands. He mouthed the word _please_.

Trina accepted defeat. She could be cruel, but she didn't have it in her to deny the pleading of a kid looking like that. She turned back to her father. "Everything's fine. Logan was farting like a maniac, so I made him take it outside." She flashed Aaron a grin.

Beside her, Logan relaxed, and his breathing returned. He turned to watch Aaron's reaction. "That's what she gets for wanting broccoli with dinner tonight. What freak _wants_ broccoli?"

Aaron chuckled. He waved his hand tiredly. "Play nice," he mumbled and returned down the hallway to his bedroom.

"Thanks," Logan breathed, settling into the couch.

"Yeah, whatever," Trina responded, unpausing her show.

.~.

Trina didn't really get into trouble anymore. She was a grown woman so Aaron didn't really set rules for her, and she didn't have the penchant for embarrassing public gestures that her younger brother did. She saw real anger directed at her from Aaron for the first time in a long time after living with him for almost six months.

But then she got caught going into a porta-pottie at a musical festival with a guy. Sure, it was a little undignified, but she was young, and she still had time to make mistakes. Unfortunately, musical festivals made it easy for paparazzi to hide in the crowd, and there were _a lot_ of incriminating pictures of the couple going into the porta-pottie and coming out afterward. She hadn't even had the good sense to make sure she'd put her shirt back on the right way.

Trina's face burned as she stared at the sleazy gossip TV show. They had blown up the photos as large as possible. She sat in the living room on the couch, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

Logan walked by, opening a soda bottle. He snickered as the picture flashed across the screen. "Classy, Trin," he said, laughing. He plopped down next to her. "Or was this just research for another role as some tramp with two lines?"

Trina turned to her brother. She was just about to respond when she heard the front door open and slam shut. "Trina!" Aaron's voice echoed through the house.

Trina took a deep breath and prepared for the lecture. She jumped in her seat as Aaron entered the room, slamming his fist against the wall near the entryway. "Goddammit!" he shouted. His hair fell over his face and he brushed it away quickly.

Trina looked over and saw that her brother had half risen to standing. He was frozen in an awkward position, watching their father carefully.

"Do you realize how this makes me look?" Aaron hissed out, stalking closer to his kids. "Do you want the entire world to think that I raised my daughter to have sex with random men in porta-potties?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Trina said. She looked up at him, widening her eyes and pressing out her bottom lip. "I made a mistake. I really messed up, Daddy. I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to make you forgive me."

Logan rolled his eyes at her and rose to be completely standing. He hovered by the edge of the couch, behind Aaron's back. To Trina, it looked like he was ready to take off.

Aaron ran his hand through his hair. He seemed to calm down almost immediately, as if his rage had an off switch. "Just… just don't even _think_ about doing _anything_ like this ever again, got it?"

Trina nodded emphatically. "Of course, Daddy."

Aaron huffed and spun on his heel. As he stormed out of the room, he passed Logan, who took a step away and watched silently as his father left the room. Logan walked back over to the couch and sat down just as the front door slamming signaled Aaron leaving the house.

Trina sighed, fighting back tears. Most people's opinions didn't matter to her, but she hated feeling like she had disappointed her father. She felt like a deep pit had settled in her stomach. She swallowed heavily and stared at the TV, no longer comprehending what she was watching.

Logan grabbed the remote off of the coffee table. He looked over at her like he was expecting her to object and shrugged when she didn't say anything. He flipped the channels until he found Family Guy playing.

They sat in silence for a long time until, out of nowhere, Logan said, "I don't know why you're sniffling over there. You got off easy." Trina could hear the sneer in his voice.

She huffed and looked over at him. He was sitting up rigidly straight, hands grasping his knees. "Shut up, dimwit. You have no idea what you're talking is between me and Dad." She tried to covertly wipe her eyes.

He rolled his eyes and gave her a passing glare before returning to staring straight forward at the TV. "You think I've never embarrassed Dad before? I'm the disappointing child, remember?" He sat back finally, but still didn't look relaxed.

Trina stood up to walked over to the bookshelf, where a box of tissues sat in front of the unread books. She grabbed a tissue and carefully dabbed at her running eye makeup. "So then what? You think he's worse when _you_ embarrass him?"

Logan opened his mouth to respond but stumbled over his tongue at first. Then he tried again and got out the words, "He beats me." He still wasn't looking at her. He looked casual, like he hadn't even spoken and was still engrossed in the show before him.

Trina's mouth dropped open. "Logan! That's not funny." She looked down the hallway to see if anyone was approaching. She couldn't remember if Lynn was home. Logan whipped his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing. Trina continued, "Jesus Christ. You shouldn't joke about things like that. That's low for even you."

Logan's mouth contorted into a snarl. He stared at her for just long enough that it made her uncomfortable then said, "I'm not joking. After the time I flipped off a reporter through the car window, he waited until we were away from the reporters then pulled over and burned me with his cigarette."

She remembered the stories about Aaron Echolls' son making crude gestures at paparazzo a couple months ago. Their father had been livid, storming around the house for hours while fielding calls from his agent asking for comments to give reporters. Logan had conveniently disappeared to the Kanes' house for a few days.

"You are _morbid_ , little brother," Trina responded, chuckling.

"I'm serious!" Logan yelled. He immediately seemed taken aback by how loud his voice was.

She tried to imagine her father doing something like that. Aaron wasn't exactly a saint—it was no secret that he made a hobby of cheating on Lynn—but he wasn't an _abuser_. Could he lose his temper sometimes? Yes. Was he violent? _No_.

She formed an image in her head of Aaron pulling a cigarette from between his lips and then pressing it into Logan's skin. It just didn't work. That wouldn't happen. If Aaron abused Logan, she would have seen it. She lived in that house with them. That kind of thing is hard to hide, right?

Aaron had never doted on Logan as much as Trina. Was Logan just bitter? How could he even make accusations like that?

Trina realized she had been staring at Logan for a long time. "Logan, stop."

"When I got a broken nose on my tenth birthday? _He_ broke my nose."

"Dad wouldn't—"

"He whips me with his belt."

"Logan, _stop_!"

Her brother finally fell silent and looked at her expectantly. Trina fumbled for something to say but couldn't come up with anything. Logan stood up from the couch but didn't go anywhere. He remained there, just watching her, expecting her to have something, anything to say to him.

Eventually Trina settled on saying. "Why are you doing this? Dad _loves_ us. He'd be so hurt if he found out you were saying this shit."

Logan laughed and rolled his eyes. Trina had to admit that she was relieved his weird tenseness had disappeared. Suddenly he was back to being the disrespectful, smartass brother she knew so well. She knew how to handle this personality.

He ran his hand over his face, still chuckling. "Well I wouldn't want to hurt Daddy Dearest's feelings, would I?" He lashed out his hand and, in one motion, swiped everything off the coffee table. Remotes and coasters clattered to the floor. Trina took a step back.

"He's such a _good dad_ , after all," Logan added, sarcasm saturating his words. "You're right, Trina. I made it all up. I just wanted to get back at Daddy for not paying attention to me. Because _I'm_ the _troubled_ child, and we all know it!"

Before Trina could further chastise him, he was storming down the hallway, throwing his hands up and forming peace signs with his fingers. "Talk to you later, bitch," he shouted before turning the corner and disappearing. A few moments later, she heard his bedroom door slam with so much force that something on the wall clattered to the ground.

She stood in place for a little bit longer, gathering herself, then picked up everything Logan had knocked off the table, putting them back in order with shaking hands. then she went to find what had fallen from the wall. As she replaced the painting on its wall hook, she realized she was fighting off tears again.

The front door opened, and Trina assumed that meant Aaron was home again. She took a deep breath, wiped away her tears, and walked quickly down the stairs to meet him. Aaron saw her approach and smiled at her. "Hi, Trin," he said softly.

Her first instinct was to snitch about the lies Logan had been telling, but she felt the words get caught in her throat. She thought of the empty look in her little brother's eyes while he said the words, "He beats me." Her stomach felt like it had suddenly dropped to her feet while she thought of trying to relay the conversation she had just had to the father it was about.

She looked at Aaron smiling at her and walked toward him, opening her arms for a hug. "Aw, honey," Aaron said as he pulled her close. He patted her back. "I hope you're not still upset about me yelling at you. I've handled the reporters. It's going to be okay."

"I know, Daddy," Trina whispered.

She tried to imagine the hands enveloping her suddenly becoming violent. She couldn't do it. Because Aaron was a _good_ father. He really was.

Trina pushed the phrases "burned me with his cigarette" and "broke my nose" out of her mind. They weren't true.

Because her brother was a liar, and Aaron was not an abuser.

She had a good father.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: hey y'all. here's the long neglected second part. It takes place at the end of Hot Dogs.

When Trina looks away from her beaten boyfriend to make eye contact with her brother, she's expecting to see shock on his face. She's hoping that his expression will mirror the horror that is probably evident in her own. She wants to see that someone else is just as appalled by this crazy situation as she is.

Instead, Logan's face is nearly blank, illuminated by the flicker of the fire pit. If anything, his face betrays a hint of mild amusement, but no horror, no surprise, nothing that she is feeling.

Trina briefly attempts to make eye contact with Veronica, but the blonde is too busy looking around and being the appropriate amount of disgusted by the scene before them (Thank God). So instead Trina looks back at her boyfriend—if she can call him that anymore—curled up protectively on the ground. He's huddled up, trying to protect as much of his body as he can from the sharp strikes of Aaron's belt.

Aaron looks up from his victim and casually acknowledges his son. He's speaking, but Trina doesn't fully register what he's saying. She's too busy trying to fight back a sick feeling as she suddenly remembers the time her little brother accused their father of beating him with his belt. At the time, she had been entirely incapable of even imagining her dad being that violent. But here the scene is right in front of her. She has finally seen the kind of rage she thought Aaron was only capable of showing when he was acting.

Trina has just begun to recover her bearings before Aaron is asking Logan to see her boyfriend to his car. Logan walks down the steps and sticks his hands under Dylan's armpits to lug him to his feet. Aaron strings his belt back into the loops of his pants before strolling past them back into the house.

Logan pauses long enough to watch their father go before shoving Dylan toward the backyard's side gate. Dylan stumbles after a few steps, looks back at the teenager pushing him around, then continues toward the gate. Logan chuckles sardonically as he follows a few steps behind Dylan. He leans forward and hisses into Dylan's ear, "Stings, doesn't it?"

Trina feels her heart splinter into jagged bits and shoot up into her throat. She suddenly wishes she wasn't standing so close to them so she wouldn't have heard him say it. She looks at Veronica, who, judging by her open-mouthed expression, has also heard the icy remark—good hearing, that one has.

Veronica's and Trina's eyes meet, and Trina is expecting them to find solace in shared horror. Instead, Veronica looks away after milliseconds and replaces her steely-faced mask. She rushes to follow Logan as he manhandles Dylan out to the driveway. (Dylan is going willingly, Trina notices. Logan is just being difficult, being himself.)

As soon as they disappear through the gate, Trina's knees buckle and she slowly lowers herself to sit on the concrete. There are a few spots of blood spattered in front of her. A wet feeling on her leg suggests that she has sat in one of them. "Well that's the last of Dylan's DNA that'll be touching me," she jokes in her own mind.

A car door slams shut and the distinctive sound of Dylan's shitty car rumbles through the air. The clamor slowly disappears as Dylan drives it away from the house and away from Trina.

She feels a short, ridiculous moment of sadness over the end of the relationship. Her eyes are transfixed on the blood spots on the ground, and her mind starts to race through the memories of the night. A dull pain in her chest starts to build as she remembers how terrified she had been of her father for a few minutes there.

Eventually, realizing that Logan and Veronica aren't coming back to check on her, Trina lugs herself up from the concrete to walk slowly into the house. She's still limping a little, but she's adjusted to the uneven gait by now and barely remembers that this isn't how she's supposed to be walking.

Aaron's bedroom door is closed, and the light is on. Usually he doesn't go to his room to unwind until much later in the night. It feels like one of many nights from long ago when Aaron screamed at Logan for any one of many wrongdoings then stormed off to his room to fume more. Trina half expects to see Lynn sitting on the couch, sipping a whiskey and pretending that she hasn't heard anything.

Trina remembers that her stepmother is very dead and the bar cart next to the couch has gone untouched for a long time.

Then, the thought hitting her in the stomach like a blow, she also remembers that Aaron probably beats Logan.

Trina puts her hand on the wall to balance herself. Has her heart been beating this quickly all night or did that just start? She swallows heavily.

A sound from Aaron's room makes her jump, and then, unexpectedly to even her, she begins to sob. She shoves her hands over her mouth so Aaron won't hear and makes her way to her own room to curl up on the bed.

She doesn't know how long she lays there, alternating between heaving sobs and staring silently at the wall. Eventually she hears the front door open and close, and Logan throwing his keys into the dish by the door. She listens to him get ready for bed then start snoring not even ten minutes later.

She thinks bitterly that he gets to sleep peacefully tonight and she feels like she may never sleep again.

Maybe it's what she deserves.

.~.

Trina catches herself staring at Logan across the breakfast bar. He's taking small bites out of a pop-tart, looking at something on his phone that's making him smirk. She wonders how he can look so amused and carefree while she has had a weight pulling her chest into the ground since last night.

She wishes so badly that she just didn't know. She wishes Logan had never said anything to her all those years ago and she wishes Aaron hadn't shown his true colors last night. Most of all, she wishes she could stop being a part of this family immediately.

"I've heard pictures last longer."

Trina snaps her gaze away from the pop-tart in Logan's hand, which at some point she had started staring at intently.

She makes eye contact with her brother. His eyebrows are raised and his lips are half curled, showing amusement without his usual accompanying malevolence. "Here," he says, handing her the opened foil package, "lucky for you, there's two in every pack."

Trina hesitantly takes it from him. He's being too nice. She wonders if he got laid last night; that's the only thing she can think of that would explain him being cordial while she's still wrapped up in anxiety.

Logan pops the last bite of the pop-tart into his mouth and dramatically claps his hands together to displace the crumbs on his fingers. He spins away from the counter to walk out of the kitchen but is stopped when he comes chest to chest with Aaron.

For a split second, Trina's breath becomes stuck in her chest.

"Whoa!" Aaron exclaims, laughing and reaching out to steady Logan. Then he steps around his son to head to the fridge. Apparently, he is also in an inappropriately good mood.

He grabs a water bottle from the fridge. "I'm off to cooking class. When I'm back, I'll be prepared to whip up a fantastic dinner. Don't make plans!" He sweeps out of the kitchen as quickly as he had come in and soon the front door opens and closes.

Logan has flopped himself onto the couch. He doesn't respond to anything their father says or react when he leaves.

Trina turns to look at him again. She realizes that she had been expecting some sort of showdown, as if now that she knows about the abuse, there could no longer be normal interactions between Logan and Aaron. But that's not reasonable; every interaction she has witnessed up until this point has been non-violent. Nothing is going to change just because she has finally pulled her head out of her ass. Her world may have changed but theirs haven't.

But it still kills her to see Logan looking so _normal,_ and before she can stop it, she has choked out the words, "He beats you."

Logan turns his head slowly to look at her. The malevolence is back. As he slowly sits up and stands from the couch, Trina realizes what a massive storm she has probably just unleashed. She considers how embarrassing it would be if she just runs away from the conversation she has started.

"You mean Dad? _Dad_? Beating me?" He puts his hand on his chest, splaying out his fingers, and takes one step in Trina's direction. He cocks his head to the side. "Now why would you say that, Trin?" His voice is so heavy with sarcasm that it seems the words slow in the air and ooze into her chest like slime as they collide with her.

Trina is so struck by her own stupidity and so weighed down by Logan's fury that she is entirely unable to form a response.

She stares at her little brother and wonders when he turned into such an angry man. She remembers how he had started out as an adventurous and awkwardly funny little kid, too loud and too boisterous at the most inappropriate times, because he was so thrilled by the world around him. Now it just seems like Logan is too jaded. He's still adventurous and hilarious, but he cares more about taking down everything in this path—destroying anything just for the sake of having destroyed.

She wonders if the fear did it to him. She saw it, didn't she? She watched him be afraid every day and never realized. Maybe she didn't want to realize.

Maybe she's done this to him, colluding with Aaron and Lynn's depression and the press and the rest of the world that has hardened Logan. Her willful ignorance has strangled the happiness out of him just as much as Aaron's hands have.

Trina sighs and opens her mouth a few times before finally saying, "You told me. I know I didn't—I…"

Logan walks slowly closer to her until he's standing next to the counter again and leans with his hip pressed against it. He meets her eyes, leaning forward just slightly. A huge, sardonic smile steals his face.

He stares at her for a moment too long then says, "Wasn't it you that warned me against being wishy-washy? I'd say you take your own advice." He knocks his fist lightly on the counter before pushing away and striding out of the room.

Trina is left standing alone in the kitchen. Tears stab at her eyes and she blinks a few times to fight them back. She isn't sure how she was expecting Logan to react, and if she's being honest, that was probably the most Logan-ish reaction there could be. Did she think he was going to cry for her? Break down and tell her everything? He already tried that and she shut it down.

Trina stares down at the pop-tart she's still holding. As she walks over to the trash can (she feels too sick to eat), she realizes that she wants him to be grateful for her finally admitting that he wasn't lying. How selfish can she be?

She drops the pop-tart and watches it fall to the bottom of the trash can. She's so engrossed in the silence of the kitchen that she stumbles back when a _bang_ sounds from upstairs.

Hesitantly, Trina walks up the stairs and apprehensively moves down the hallway. When she reaches Logan's room, she slows. She quietly peers through the crack left by the slightly opened door.

Everything from Logan's dresser has been knocked to the ground and he's sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. She's surprised to be struck by the instinct to go in and comfort him. She's about to reach for the door but stops herself.

He doesn't want her, and she knows it. If he wanted to seek solace in her, he had his chance and snarked his way out of it.

Trina slowly steps away from his room.

She takes one more look at her little brother—crumpled and defeated and hiding—and accepts that she can't be one the one to fix him.

And why would she be?

She's the one that did this to him.


End file.
